


Daybreak

by Vulcanmi



Series: Thawing Universe [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 23:09:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14987588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulcanmi/pseuds/Vulcanmi
Summary: Steve couldn't be more grateful to have Bucky back. But he can't spend all his time at the apartment. He decides to enlist Thor's help to keep him company.(You don't need to read the other works in the series for this to make sense)





	Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> How did they rescue Bucky? Where is Thanos? Tune in next time to find out. Maybe. You guys have no idea how much I love the Thor/Bucky pairing. I had to do something for them too there just aren't enough winterstorm fics 
> 
> There's another Stoki fic in the works too, set before this, but it's not finished yet so I decided to throw this one up. Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Sorry about that weird update surge, it made three new fics after I clicked post for some reason.

“So, what did Steve bribe you with this time?”

Thor blinks, looking up from the two large, oiled-up men grappling each other on the television to find the Winter Soldier’s face. “Bribe?”

James Buchanan Barnes, or "Bucky," as everyone calls him, waves his metal hand and collapses onto the couch. His weight causes the bowl of popcorn Thor had planned on enjoying to bounce up, but Bucky manages to catch it without displacing a single kernel. Thor tries to be more annoyed than impressed, but it’s difficult.

“Poptarts? Snowballs? Sarah Rogers’ famous apple pie?”

Thor spreads his arms out along the back of the couch and raises his eyebrows. “Is that all you think it would take to bribe me?”

Bucky glances over at him with a deadpan expression, pushing a single piece of popcorn in between criminally red lips.

Thor drags his eyes away from his mouth and back to the TV. “Fair enough. I’m still not sure what exactly he would be bribing me to do.” Thor hears Bucky chewing for a second, before he speaks again.

“This. Me.”

Thor forces himself not to look over again when his brain parses that idea, positive that hadn’t been what the other meant. Instead he just makes an unintelligible noise, then reaches down with the arm that wasn’t close to Bucky to get some popcorn as well.

“He’s been staying here because he doesn’t want to leave me alone. But I know he’s been getting anxious. He and Loki aren’t exactly subtle.”

Thor’s expression twists at the thought of why exactly the good Captain would want to leave to go off somewhere alone with his brother, and he swallows. “Yes, well, that is what lovers do. Spend time together.”

“And that’s why he made you come.” Bucky sounds so completely sure of himself that Thor wants to say he’s wrong just for the satisfaction of it. “So he could go off without feeling guilty. But I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You’re wrong, James,” Thor says, and as predicted gets a glare. “I come to Steve’s apartment for the television. We don’t have anything like this on Asgard.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and leans back against the couch cushions, the back of his neck nudging against Thor’s arm. “Sure.”

“And the pop tarts,” Thor adds, and Bucky snorts. Then, “and the company.”

Bucky turns his head, face wearing that sixty percent wounded, forty percent vulnerable expression it so often does.

His hair wisps into his face and Thor wonders for the umpteenth time why he doesn’t tie it back. Then Thor realizes Bucky is still staring, and clears his throat. “I’d like to consider us friends. I’ve come to really enjoy these little sessions of ours. It hurts that you think I’m only here because Steve asked me to be.” It’s the wrong thing to say, and Thor presses his lips together hard as Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“So he did ask you?”

“Just—the one time,” Thor admits, leaning away and holding up his hands. “After that, I offered.”

Bucky snorts. “Sure. Charity work must look really great on your superhero résumé.”

“Charity—Bucky,” Thor sighs, but can’t think of how to get his point across. Loki always did say he wasn’t so great with words.

“We’re not friends, Thor.” Bucky chews vengefully on another handful of popcorn. It must have been a bad week. He has those, sometimes. Steve talks to Loki, who hints to him, when he comes down to Earth to spend an hour or so watching wrestling with Steve’s oldest friend in Steve’s apartment.

Neither the government, nor Stark, are quick to forgive, and Thor knows it can’t be easy, siting here and waiting for other people to decide your fate. All Bucky has is one person on his side and 70 years of nightmares.

Thor wets his lips, watching Bucky eat for a second longer. “We can fix that.”

Bucky glares at him.

Thor smiles, and turns back to the TV. He receives a kernel tossed against his temple for his kindness.

It’s a promising start.

+

Bucky’s eating plums. No—murdering them is a more fair description. His straight white teeth tear into the flesh like he’s trying to punish them, and the sounds he makes as he sucks up the juice are obscene. Thor feels like he needs to rescue those poor plums from such a gruesome death.

He takes a seat on the couch and sets Mjolnir on the table, giving his best face of concern. “What did that plum ever do to you?”

Bucky gives him a look that’s not quite a glare, but not quite amusement, either. He licks his lips clean, and then his thumb, and Thor frowns down at the bowl where two more plums still sit. They’re doomed.

“Have a nice flight?”

Thor lets out a short laugh. “I didn’t fly here. Heimdall placed me close to the building. I scared a few civilians but I think most of the people who live nearby are starting to get used to it.”

Bucky grunts. His eyes are on the hammer.

Thor can hear the question before it’s even asked.

“It looks so light.”

“Oh, as a feather.”

Bucky gives him another look. “You’re the only one who can lift it?”

“The only one worthy enough, yes,” he brags, and then grins at he challenge he can see in Bucky’s eyes. “You’re welcome to give it a try.”

Bucky does.

First with his regular arm, muscles bulging, teeth gritting, eyes flashing. Then with the metal. It doesn’t flex, per se, but the individual panels shift as he tries to lift it, and it makes a strange whirring sound as he exerts himself.

Thor sits back and enjoys the show, smug. “Feel like giving up yet?”

Bucky glares.

He tries for another twenty minutes before finally calling it quits and collapsing back on the couch. His foot nearly kicks Thor in the head and Thor’s not entirely sure it was an accident.

“S’not over,” Bucky declares.

Thor lifts up Mjolnir easily, just to rub it in the other’s scruffy face, tossing it in the air once and catching it as easy as a Midgardian baseball. “I don’t doubt it.”

Without looking, Bucky reaches down and picks up the remote, pressing play to start the pre-recorded wrestling match waiting for them on the TV.

+

The first time Thor sees the Winter Soldier in battle, he’s genuinely surprised. He knows he shouldn’t be. Especially after hearing what Steve had gone through to get the other back. The man fights with the strength and grace of Captain America, shoots with the precision of Hawkeye, and wields a dagger with almost as much aptitude as a certain brother of his. When brute strength is required he uses the arm, but he doesn’t favor it as much as Thor would have expected.

It’s certainly a sight.

After the fight, when Ultron’s drones are dead and Steve is clapping Bucky on the back, saying something to him that Thor can’t hear, Thor sees Bucky smile for the first time, too. He’s a little disconcerted when he looks at Steve and thinks, "lucky."

“Looks like the mighty Avengers didn’t need much help after all,” Loki’s voice drawls from beside him.

Thor looks over, sees Loki’s eyes on the same spot his had been.

“They’re awfully close, aren’t they?”

Thor looks back to Steve and his friend, sees the way the Captain’s hand lingers on Bucky’s shoulder. He laughs. “Jealousy doesn’t become you, brother.”

Loki’s lips twitch in annoyance.

From the way Steve’s attention is caught from the moment Loki enters his line of sight, he doesn’t think his brother has anything to worry about.

+

When he knocks on the door, there’s no immediate response. Thor is confused—this is the same time he always comes. Neither Bucky nor Steve indicated there would be a change in their schedule.

He’s just about to turn around and leave when the door opens a crack, revealing one brown eye and a lock of dark hair.

A second later, Bucky pulls the door open farther, staring at him like he’s a puzzle that needs to be solved.

Thor offers a smile and steps inside. The apartment is dark, the curtains closed, instead of open, like Thor knows Steve prefers. All the lights are off. The television, too. He turns around in time to see Bucky close the door, a question in his eyes.

Bucky just stares.

Thor feels a prickle of something in his chest, anxiety, or perhaps something similar. He wets his lips, taking a step closer.

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

Thor pauses. “What? Why?”

Bucky turns and walks past him, into the kitchen. He turns on the lights and starts to rummage through the pantry. “Since I’m, you know. Not under ‘house arrest’ anymore.”

Thor follows Bucky in time to see him toss two bags of popcorn out on the counter. “And yet, here you are. And here I am.”

The third bag hits his chest hard enough to make him grunt. Bucky pops his head out of the pantry, a look on his face that Thor hasn’t seen before. Thoughtful. Pleased, maybe.

“I didn’t record any matches. …I didn’t think you were coming,” he reiterates.

Thor shrugs. “So we’ll do something else.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, and Thor clears his throat, setting the bag on the counter. “Watch something else,” he amends. He watches Bucky walk to the fridge and grab two beers from inside.

Thor’s lips twitch. “Your Midgardian drinks aren’t quite enough for me.”

“Me either. But it’s better than nothing.”

Thor considers, and then drums his fingers against his legs. “If you’d like, I could fetch something a little stronger.”

Bucky pauses in the middle of twisting off the bottle cap with his metal arm, tilting his head. “From Asgard?”

Thor nods.

It takes Bucky a full five seconds before he sets his bottle down and nods, leaning against the kitchen island. “Okay. Show me what you’ve got.”

Thor returns to Asgard only long enough to procure enough drinks for him and the Winter Soldier. He’s not entirely sure how Bucky’s not quite human body will handle it, but he’s looking forward to finding out.

When he returns, Bucky has the television on, and the house actually looks like someone lives in it. He’s on the couch flipping through channels, metal elbow resting on the armrest, head in his hand. “That was fast.”

Thor sets down his spoils on the table, noting Bucky has popped the popcorn as well. He eagerly takes a fistful while Bucky studies the containers he brought back with him.

“Cups?” Thor prompts, brushing some salt off his beard. “You’ll have to tell me how it fairs compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky rises and retrieves two glass cups, setting one in front of Thor and then filling up his own.

Thor watches him take a sip, watches him swallow. “...? Well?”

“...S’all right.”

Thor raises his eyebrows. “This is the finest Asgard has to offer.”

Bucky glances at him while he takes another drink.

Thor swears he sees one side of his mouth curling up, but it’s over before he can prove it.

Bucky finishes two glasses without issue while they watch something called "NCIS." It doesn’t hold Thor’s attention like the wrestling did, because a lot of the Midgardian jargon goes over his head, but television is always entertaining.

Two hours later and Thor can’t help but sneak glances towards the human. He’d thought perhaps the influence of alcohol would allow Bucky to finally relax, but he looks as stoic as ever.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Thor is irritated at himself for being caught staring. “No, just...curious. You hold your ale well.”

Bucky turns his head towards him and smirks. “Were you hoping I’d be dancing on the table?”

Thor’s a little too caught off guard by the curve of the other’s lips to respond right away. When he does, it doesn’t come out quite the way he wants. “It would have made for an interesting evening.”

“I don’t think Steve would be too happy if I broke his table.”

“Shame.” Thor worries that his playful joke will cause Bucky to retreat back into his shiny metal shell, but Bucky just nods and says “It is. I’m a great dancer,” and Thor wonders how Bucky is able to do this to him. Stealing the words right out of his throat.

He eats more popcorn.

Later on in the evening they find a movie where cowboys are fighting aliens, and sometime in the middle Bucky dozes off. His head is drooped awkwardly to the side, and it doesn’t look very comfortable at all.

Thor considers taking him to his room, shifting over to let him use his shoulder instead, or somehow coaxing the man to lay down on the couch, but before he can make a decision the door opens.

Steve greets him with a smile.

Thor presses a finger to his lips so he’ll know not to speak loud, lest he wake Bucky.

When Steve’s gaze shifts to the slumbering soldier, a look comes over his face that’s so fond Thor wants to poke his head into the other’s line of sight again.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Steve says as he walks to the kitchen, scratching at his neck.

Thor’s sure he doesn’t know about the hickey there. “I got caught up watching the movie.”

Steve looks at the TV, tilts his head. “What’s it about?”

Thor turns toward the screen, frowning. “…I have no idea.”

+

Bucky opens the door for him, and then immediately frowns. Not that he’s not always frowning. But his usual frowns are more just the absence of a smile than anything negative. This time one side of his mouth pulls down, and he furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”

Thor can only blink. Shouldn’t he be asking that?

“You’re not smiling.”

Thor snorts, and steps further into the apartment hanging Mjolnir up on the coat rack. “I’m not always smiling.” He heads straight for the couch, where a box of pop tarts is waiting, and sits down with a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky takes a seat beside him.

Thor shakes his head, resting his chin in one hand. He tries staring at the wrestling match paused on the screen, in the hopes that Bucky will get the hint that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but when he glances over Bucky is still staring at him, looking for all the world like a stubborn kitten.

“…Jane and I…broke up. It was a mutual decision,” he explains. “We both agreed it was for the best.” He doesn’t have as much time to spend with her as he’d like to, after all. Between ruling Asgard, and helping Earth’s mightiest heroes. Never mind that every two weeks he spends an evening watching television with the Winter Soldier.

He can’t stop thinking about Jane, and how he’ll never hold her again. She was so fragile against him, so small, but she held such strength inside.

He didn’t love Jane, but he did a great deal for her. He still does. If he’s being honest with himself, he might not have chosen to break up, if she hadn’t brought up the topic. They’d had something special, regardless of what his brother kept insisting. Despite the tentative bond he and Loki had formed, since the other had revealed just what he’d done to Odin, that was still one of the things they just couldn’t agree on.

“If you insist on being with a Midgardian,” Loki would say, eyes seeming to be permanently stuck in a rolled position, “it should be with someone like the Winter Soldier.”

The first time Loki had made the point, Thor’s bewildered "and why is that" had been met with a suspiciously well thought out argument.

“He’s much stronger than any normal Midgardian, you wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally hurting him, after all.”

“You both like watching that barbaric Midgardian sport.”

“I know he’s not your usual type, but you can’t deny you find him attractive. I’ve seen the glances you spare him, when we’re all together.”

Thor had managed to fight back with "you’re only pushing this because it would make Steve happy if Bucky had someone as well," and though Loki had scoffed, he hadn’t had anything else to say after that.

Thor feels a hand on his arm and flinches a little, glancing guiltily over to his companion for the evening. He’d been lost in thought.

Bucky has a serious look on his face, lips slightly pursed, eyes sharp and laser focused, like when he’s concentrating just before taking a particularly difficult long range shot. “Go get some of that Asgardian alcohol.”

Thor thinks about arguing, briefly, that he doesn’t need to drink his sorrows away, but in the end he agrees.

As it turns out, Bucky is indeed an excellent dancer.

And the table does break.

Thor’s laughing loud enough that he almost doesn’t hear the sound of Bucky’s laughter underneath the boisterous noise. But he does, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s heard Bucky laugh.

He doesn’t think about Jane for the rest of the evening.

+

“Thor.”

Thor opens his eyes, frowning at how bright it is…wherever he is. He tries to sit up, but finds himself encumbered by weight on his chest. He shoves it off, and the weight says "ow."

That’s not right.

Thor shifts up to his elbows, looking over to see a grumpy Bucky curled up on the floor next to the couch. He tosses an arm over his face, presumably to keep out all the damnable sunlight.

When Thor looks up, he meets the eyes of one Steve Rogers.

“…Steve. Good morning. I suppose.”

“Yeah. Did you two have a nice evening?”

“Well…” What he can remember of it was nice, anyway. He looks around, seeing the broken table, a pile of what looks like glass bits, popcorn everywhere, and then guiltily returns his eyes to Steve. “Ahem. It appears we did have a glorious celebration.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Steve is smiling, but he’s doing that thing Loki does, where he doesn’t look happy at all even though his mouth is turned up. He’s been spending too much time with his brother. “You can have an even more glorious time cleaning this mess up with Bucky today.”

“Oh come now darling, that’s hardly a fitting punishment.”

Thor whips his head around and sees Loki, looking far too smug, standing at the foot of the couch. If he’d thought things were bad, they’re much worse, now.

“You saw the way they were wrapped around each other. If you want results, you should put them in timeout in opposite corners.”

Steve shoots Loki an amused look, before he walks over and slides an arm easily around Loki’s waist. “I really liked that table.”

“You can blame Bucky for that one. I told him that it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t be stopped.”

“Tried to stop me,” Bucky grumbled from the floor, “As I recall you were the one begging for it. ‘Just one time, please, then I’ll never bring it up again.”

Thor’s face certainly does not warm when he realizes just what this sounds like out of context, though he does try to defuse the situation before Steve’s eyebrows can get any higher, and Loki’s smile can get any wider. “Wait—”

“Why brother, that was an excellent impression of you.”

“We were only—”

Steve holds up a hand. “Just clean up the mess.”

Loki wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulder and grins almost giddily, eyes screaming "I told you so."

Thor watches them go with a heavy heart and a heavier sigh.

After a second, Bucky sits up. “Oh, damn. They definitely think we’re fucking.”

Thor shoots him a glare. “No thanks to you.”

“You did beg me.”

“To dance!”

“That doesn’t sound any less incriminating you know.” There’s the slightest curve to Bucky’s lips.

Thor tries his hardest, but can’t hold back his own smile. He gives Bucky a shove, and is promptly hit in the face with a throw pillow.

+

“Loki still won’t believe me,” Thor complains, watching Bucky watch the scope of his rifle.

“He and Steve both,” Bucky mutters, body perfectly still as he lays on the cliff face. There’s no wind, and the sun is beating down against the both of them hard enough that they could probably fry eggs on various body parts, but it’s not so bad. New Mexico was worse.

Thor leans his head back against the rock he’s using as a backrest and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t know how to convince them we’re not together.”

Bucky pulls the trigger. A second later he sits up, beginning to take apart the rifle and carefully put it back in its case. “They’ll see what they want to see, regardless of how ridiculous it is.”

Thor can’t help but be a little offended. “Ridiculous?”

Bucky shrugs, completely nonchalant. “I don’t think you could handle me.”

Thor scoffs, holding out an arm so he can fly Bucky back to the rendezvous point. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that sounded like a challenge.”

Bucky grins. “A challenge you’ll never accept.”

“Why not?”

The grin lingers as Bucky steps in close, and twitches when Thor loops an arm around him. “Because it would mean Loki was right.”

Thor scowls, and takes off into the air to the sound of Bucky’s quiet snickers in his ear.

+

When Thor knocks on the door, no one answers, but he can hear movement inside. He frowns and tries the handle. It’s open. Thor steps inside quickly, sensing something off.

It doesn’t take long to realize exactly what it is. Bucky’s clothes. They are off. Of his body.

Thor blinks hard, shakes his head, but Bucky continues to be naked. No, not naked. He has a towel around his waist.

“Just got back,” Bucky says by way of explanation.

Thor swallows, and then looks at the arm. He’s never seen Bucky without a shirt, before. Never seen the slightly puckered flesh where his metal arm connects to his body. It’s oddly fascinating. Realizing he’s staring, he looks back up to Bucky’s face. “Is it okay if I...? Can I see?”

Bucky shrugs, and walks closer.

He doesn’t know anything about how Midgardian science works, but the fact that Bucky can wield his arm exactly like it were a part of him is fascinating. He knows if he were to touch it it would be cold. But it moves when Bucky talks, its fingers are just as dexterous as his other hand.

Thor reaches out, curious, and Bucky shifts back. “You asked if you could see,” he points out, a faint smile on his face.

Thor almost asks the obvious question, but thinks better of it.

“Loki didn’t tell me you had a mission,” Thor says in lieu of an inquiry, and follows Bucky back to his bedroom. Steve’s door is cracked, but he resists the faint urge to look inside.

“It wasn’t a mission.” Bucky drops his towel and pulls on black boxers over a pair of truly gorgeous thighs.

Thor shakes his head, surprised at himself. “I…wait, then where…?”

Bucky rummages around in his dresser until he finds a pair of black pants. Thor’s pretty sure that’s all the man owns, so he isn’t sure what takes so long. “Stark. He wanted to talk. About…” Bucky makes a vague gesture, but Thor understands.

There isn’t an Avenger that doesn’t know about their history, now.

“He had that spider kid there to make sure we didn’t kill each other.”

“I believe his name is Spider-Man.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “He’s still just a kid.” He finishes dressing with a short-sleeved, yellow shirt, and Thor can’t stop staring. “…What?”

Thor points to his shirt. “You’re wearing…color!”

“Steve gave it to me. He said if I wore any more black someone was going to mistake me for a witch. He and Loki have been spending way too much time together.”

Thor has to laugh at that. “If you were just talking, what was the shower for?”

“I worked out afterwards. Steve and I haven’t been sparring as much, recently. I decided to go at it alone.” Bucky makes his way back to the living room, and Thor follows.

“You and I could spar.” The idea alone gets him excited. He’s sparred with Sif, Hogun, and Fandral enough that, while enjoyable, it isn’t truly a challenge anymore. And Loki always cheats.

Bucky snorts. “At the risk of expanding your already enormous ego, I don’t think I’d stand much of a chance.”

Thor folds his arms across his chest. “Steve certainly didn’t back down when I first challenged him.” Thor already knows the taunt will work, so he has a smile on his face when Bucky turns around and narrows his eyes.

“…Fine. But not here. Steve will kill me if we break anymore furniture.”

“You,” Thor corrects.

Bucky lands a punch right on his left nipple without even turning around.

+

“So this is the good Captain’s private gym?”

Bucky shrugs off his yellow shirt and lets it fall into a corner. “Not exactly. The owner lets him use this room since people tend to stare otherwise.”

The room is a wide, open space, two walls lined with mirrors, and a two large padded mats off to one side. There’s a bar on one wall that Thor can’t imagine the purpose of.

“How kind of him.”

“Yeah. Good for his business regardless, people will pay to go to the same gym as ‘Captain America.’” Bucky rolls his shoulders, takes a deep breath in and wanders over to the middle of the room.

“Any particular reason you’re getting undressed? Should I take my shirt off too?” Thor asks, amused.

“I have a funny feeling you’re going to make me sweat.”

Thor grins, and rolls his head on his shoulders. “I could go easy on you. If you want.”

Bucky’s glare tells him exactly how he feels about that. He makes the first move.

Thor has seen the Winter Soldier in battle and knows that he is fast, that he is strong, that he is inventive.

But he’s not Asgardian.

Whenever Thor starts finding it a little difficult to keep up with the other’s flying fists and feet and elbows he grabs him around the waist and tosses him across the room.

The first time, Bucky slides into the wall and leaps up with a growl and a glare.

The second time he tucks into a roll and springs back quick enough to make Thor stumble.

The third, he uses Thor’s weight against him and they both fall to the ground, Thor on his back.

He grunts when his head hits the mat, and then Bucky is on top of him, delivering a punch that was definitely not pulled to his jaw. Thor winces, glancing up at the other. “That almost felt like you wanted to hurt me.”

“Only almost?”

Thor surges forward and manages to reverse their positions, shoving Bucky onto his back. Before he can even begin pin him down, the other is already three steps into breaking out of his hold. They roll, and Thor puts him in a headlock, squeezing hard. “Do I have to count to ten, or do you yield?”

Bucky headbutts him, strains, flops around like the king of magicarps (Tony has him playing something called pokémon as a way to introduce him to Midgardian entertainment, it’s actually quite amusing), but Thor holds on until he finally has the other on his stomach.

Bucky jerks back against him, and the delighted grin slides off Thor’s face when it causes a different reaction than it should have. It's certainly not his first time sparring with a man, but for some reason the Winter Soldier's back pressed so tightly against his front makes warmth curl in his stomach. He's wearing a shirt but he can feel the heat of Bucky's bare skin through it. He can feel the curve of Bucky's rear drag against his thighs, and though it shouldn't, it catches his attention. He saw Bucky naked, hardly an hour ago. And maybe he'd looked, but only because Bucky dropped the towel so suddenly. Perhaps the fact that he knows what that curve looks like is what makes his mouth run dry. Or maybe it's just because it’s been a while. After Jane, he hadn’t really looked for anyone else, and his hand can only bring so much satisfaction. Bucky is a man, but he’s a warrior, and more than deserves his attraction. Just attraction, of course.

In his distraction, Bucky frees himself, rolls back, and then roundhouse kicks him in the face so hard he falls back against the mat.

Thor blinks up, dumbfounded, though not for the reasons the rather smug looking man probably thinks.

Bucky rests a foot on his stomach, and gives him an honest to goodness grin. “Do I have to count to ten, or do you yield?

Thor wonders what falling in love feels like.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thor's “That almost felt like you wanted to hurt me.” line attributed to Atilla 12


End file.
